


give me a run (a run for my money)

by Like_A_Dove



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Episode VIII: The Last Jedi, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Amnesia, Angst, F/M, Force Bond (Star Wars), Inappropriate Use of the Force, Loss of Virginity, Renperor, Romance, can't have kylo ren without violence and murder, kylo never stood a chance, not an empress a khalee-i mean a jedi, some sass
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-15
Updated: 2018-02-15
Packaged: 2019-03-18 19:24:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13688190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Like_A_Dove/pseuds/Like_A_Dove
Summary: Rey wakes up after the battle in the throne room with missing memories. Kylo takes it upon himself to incorrectly fill in the gaps.**“Not an Empress.” Rey's shoulders are squared as she holds herself up to her fullest height. She slams the end of her quarterstaff against the hard floor, imposing and fierce. “A Jedi.”





	give me a run (a run for my money)

Give me a run for my money  
There is nobody, no one to outrun me  
So give me a run for my money  
Just love me

“LOVE” by Kendrick Lamar

**

Kylo Ren awakens to boots scuffing along the battle worn floor. He is groggy, head replaying the last moments he can remember…

Rey. Rey covered in dirt and tears and screaming as she fights for his family’s lightsaber. He raises his head, the rejection and fury taking root in his chest when—

There’s Hux, pointing a blaster at Rey, who lays about fifteen feet or so away from him, still unconscious.

Kylo’s reaction is immediate. He flings up a hand and Hux is flying backwards, landing with a loud thump at the base of Snoke’s throne. Kylo is on his feet in an instant, that feeling of rejection forgotten as he rushes over to Rey and kneels beside her. There’s blood covering the right side of her face and his whole being lurches at the sight of it.

He looks up, eyes taking in the rest of this horrible red room, thoughts racing a mile a minute. Hux is getting to his feet now, face flushed in anger. “What happened?!” the general demands.

Kylo swallows, eyes falling back to Rey’s slack face. “Snoke…Snoke underestimated her power.”

Her power over _him_ , rather. 

Hux’s mouth falls open in shock and then he’s striding forward purposely. “ _What?!_ A _scavenger_ bested our Supreme Leader?! A scavenger murdered him?!”

The hysterical urge to laugh overtakes him. “I told Snoke she was strong with the Force.”

“Our Supreme Leader is dead!” Hux screams. “What of our army, Ren?! _We have no leadership_ —”

Kylo is on his feet again, hand twisting at his side. Hux takes staggering steps forward against his own will before Kylo lifts him up into the air, choking him with the Force. “We have no leadership?” he asks, voice deadly calm. “Who do you think you’re looking at?”

Hux’s hands are clutching at his neck. “All hail,” he gasps, “the Supreme—”

“No,” Kylo interrupts, letting Hux drop unceremoniously to the floor. He won’t take his former master’s title. He refuses. He remembers his grandfather and the legacy Vader had left for him. “Bow to your Emperor, General Hux,” he commands softly.

Hux looks like he’d rather slit his own throat. Still gasping for breath, he moves off the floor and into a kneeling position, bowing his head with respect that Kylo knows he doesn’t actually have.

But he does have Hux’s fear, and for now it will serve.

Rey is still unmoving, but he won’t let the terror of that sink in just yet. He snatches up the broken lightsaber and then scoops her up into his arms, careful to be gentle with her head, and leaves this room. He’ll never come back into it again.

**

Kylo waits in the medbay for her to wake up.

“We have done what we can for the patient,” the droid informs him in monotone. “She should wake soon. There was very little brain damage, most of it is concentrated near the limbic system of the brain. The patient might experience memory loss.”

Kylo nods, letting this information sink in as he waves the droid away. Rey is lying on a bed, a screen hovering over her and tracking her heartbeats and brain activity.  
He sits and watches her. The blood and dirt and dried tears have been cleaned from her face, her skin glowing. He reaches to trail a knuckle across her cheek, to see if it’s a soft as it looks, when she stirs.

Rey winces before she opens her eyes. When she does, she looks at Kylo for a beat or two before realizing who he is. “Ben?” she says softly, attempting to sit up. He puts a hand on her shoulder and shakes his head firmly.

“You hit your head,” he informs her. “Do you remember what happened?”

Her hand falls over his, keeping it against her shoulder when he goes to pull away. She’s still delirious, he tells himself. In a moment the confused but trusting look she’s giving him will turn into disgust. She’ll leave him again, and he thinks dryly that maybe he’ll give her half of the lightsaber she broke as a parting gift—

“Just bits,” she says, making him pause. “I came here, you handcuffed me.” She frowns, and her face turns disapproving for a second. “You took me to Snoke and then—” She cuts herself off, eyes going wide as she stares up at him. “You killed Snoke.”

Ben swallows and nods once in affirmation. 

She watches him for a long moment, hazel eyes flicking across every inch of his face as she tries to read him.

He watches her as well, trying to force down his growing frustration and fury and hurt. She’s about to remember and reject him again and—

“What happened after that?” she asks quietly.

Kylo can feel his eyes widen. He’s sure in that moment he looks absurd. “You don’t remember?”

Anxiety and nerves and _hope_ come rushing to the forefront. His heart speeds up. This can’t be real. The galaxy can’t possibly be smiling upon him like this. Can’t possibly be giving him a second chance like this.

“I remember…” She scrunches up her face as she thinks, and Kylo wants so badly to reach out with the Force and find out what’s going on inside her head. He already gets bits of her feelings, the confusion she’s experiencing now as she strains for something that is just out of reach. “Fighting. I remember fighting. That’s it.” She looks at him, gaze beseeching. “What happened?”

He shouldn’t lie to her. He shouldn’t. She deserves so much more than his lies.

He swallows, keeping eye-contact, and makes his decision. “I asked you to join me.”

Rey sucks in a breath and the machine monitoring her beeps. Her heartrate has spiked. She’s still clutching his hand to her shoulder whether she realizes it or not.  
“You said yes.”

The lie comes smoothly from between his lips, and he’s almost ashamed. 

She looks enormously shocked for a moment. “No,” she finally states, “the Resistance—”

“I called off the firing on the transports. I suspect they’ve made it to Crait by now.” This isn’t a complete lie. The Finalizer had stopped firing when they’d been hit, and Kylo hadn’t bothered to command Hux to set course for Crait. Yet.

Rey’s expression is wavering, and he jumps on this opportunity. “There’s an old base there, from the days of the Rebellion. I’m sure they’ll be alright.” Finally, something truthful to feed her. He wants to keep pressing. _We could bring a new order to the galaxy_ , he wants to say. But this is the second chance the universe has thrown at him. 

And he isn’t about to make the same mistake twice.

“You can go to them, if you’d like.” He finally moves his hand out from under hers and away from her shoulder. “If you don’t want to stay with me. I won’t stop you.”

His hand feels cold without the warmth of hers. And she feels the same, her feelings fluttering about the back of his mind. He feels her brief sense of loss, feels her waring thoughts.

He sits still and he waits.

Finally, she slowly nods. “Okay.” Her voice is weak so she clears her throat. “Okay,” she says again, more firmly this time. Kylo feels her resolve and schools his face not to show his intense relief. “I’ll stay with you and lead, as your equal and nothing less.”

“Always,” he breathes.

The corner of her mouth just barely lifts into what he thinks might be a smile. But not quite.

He resists the urge to take her hand back in his, which is where it belongs. “Do you feel up to standing? We need to get off this ship.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s falling apart.”

**

_Kylo Ren is in shock._

_He’d touched hands with Rey by that fire, had physically felt her. But she is lightyears away, who knows where, and probably the current victim of a lecture from Luke Skywalker._

_She is lightyears away, but his fingertips are still burning from her touch._

_He decides then, sitting alone (but he’s not alone anymore, not really) in his quarters, that his connection with this girl is far more valuable then his master. He has the power of the Dark Side, has had it, doesn’t need any more of Snoke’s “teachings”. He’s had enough._

_He will kill his master. He just needs to figure out the right moment, the right situation to manipulate to his advantage. He dwells on this for hours and hours._

_And he’ll ask Rey to stay with him, he decides. She is his equal, and her destiny is entwined with his. He knows this deep within his very bones. She’ll stand with him, and in doing so they’ll be **together.**_

_He’ll need to come up with a good way to ask her to stay. He’s never been strong with words—_

_His head jerks to the doors of his quarters. There’s a humming in his head, light swells in his chest, a sweet taste fills his mouth._

_Rey is here._

**

He hasn’t slept in two and half day cycles.

The ship they’re on is smaller than the Finalizer, to be sure, but for now it’s acceptable. Hux has arranged for him and Rey to address the entire army, as well as all the fellow leadership and personnel. The entire First Order, essentially.

Kylo tries not to let his panic crawl up his throat and choke him. He’s standing on an elevated level in the ship’s largest hanger, and he can hear Hux’s projected voice echo throughout the entire ship. Everyone, whether they are important enough to fit onto this hanger or not, will hear what Kylo is about to say.

And they’d see Rey.

He’d sent for her. She’s been resting in her own quarters (which are next to his, but he hasn’t mentioned that to her yet) since they arrived on this ship, but she’ll need to stand with him if they’re truly going to be a united front.

He’d sent an absurd number of outfits for her to chose from as well. She’s making a first impression, and it needs to make a statement.

There’s footsteps behind him, and he turns to see four stormtroopers escorting Rey into this side hallway leading out to the balcony where Hux is still giving his speech. The general is well-spoken and impassioned, and Kylo hates him all the more for it.

Rey is…wearing the same clothes she first arrived in. They’re clean, at least. He allows his gaze to roam over her, and he can’t help but feel slightly disappointed that she hasn’t decided to dress more imperiously. “I sent uniforms, dresses—”

“I saw them.” She steps away from her guards, a new quarterstaff clutched in her right hand, looking severe. “They were impractical. And I don’t need _them_.” She jerks a thumb at the stormtroopers, and they shift their weight nervously.

“They’re for your protection.”

“And where are _your_ guards?”

Point taken. He opens his mouth to argue with her anyway, when there’s massive cheering from inside the hanger. Hux walks from the balcony and into the hallway, looking between Kylo and Rey with barely veiled disdain. To Kylo’s delight, Rey openly scowls at Hux, sticking her chin out a little as the general peers at her. Hux sniffs. “Your turn.”

**

At this point Kylo barely remembers what most of his speech has even been about. He hasn’t spoken for long, but his mouth already feels dry and there’s sweat on his forehead. The utter _terror_ rolling off of Rey, who is standing right beside him, makes delivering his practiced words twice as difficult.

There are thousands of people in this room.

But finally, it’s coming to a close. All he has left to do is introduce Rey to the masses, and then they can turn and go back to the privacy of the hallway. He steps to the side and gestures his arms widely at Rey, and his image is projected on massive screens all over the hanger. Everyone can see him, and he schools his expression into an emotionless mask. He speaks of how he has finally found his equivalent, how they are both unapparelled, how the two of them will lead everyone into a future where there is prosperity and order for the whole galaxy.

“She is my partner,” he proclaims, hearing his own voice loudly fill up all the empty space in the air. “She is…” He hesitates, then plunges forward. “She is your Empress.”

There is low murmuring all throughout the hanger.

Rey steps forward, leaving Kylo lingering slightly behind. He reels, because he’d told her she didn’t have to speak if she didn’t want to, but—

“Not an Empress.” Her shoulders are squared as she holds herself up to her fullest height. She slams the end of her quarterstaff against the hard floor, imposing and fierce. “A Jedi.”

There is silence, deafening silence, and it is all Kylo can do to keep his mouth from falling open. He reaches for her furiously through the Force, tasting her feelings.

She is a nervous ball of crackling adrenaline and nothing more. Completely unaware that one of his unofficial titles amongst the First Order is _Jedi Killer._

“I agree that the galaxy deserves a future that promises growth and security. Which is why I’ll be implementing a few changes, starting right now.”

Boiling rage makes his mouth curl. She is undermining him in front of _everyone_. He makes to move forward, but she cuts her eyes over to him, and whatever he sees there roots him to the spot.

“Starting now,” her voice is strong, “helmets and masks will only be worn in battle.”

The deafening silence continues, until, one by one, stormtroopers start pulling off their helmets. A murmuring begins to come from the crowd gathered below, as soldiers take in the faces of the peers they serve with.

“You will also choose proper names for yourselves. I don’t care what they are. But no more numbers and letters.”

The noise from the hanger grows louder and louder until it is as deafening as the silence was. Without another word, Rey turns and moves off the balcony, and Kylo should probably say something else but…

He’s right on her heels instead.

He’s so completely and utterly distracted by what she’s just done that he misses everything that Hux says to the both of them as they march by. 

Kylo yanks her into the first room he comes across, and blanches when he realizes how tiny it is. But anger is burning through every vein and he’s _furious_ with Rey as he backs her against the wall, hand whipping out and grabbing the end of the quarterstaff she’d been about to jab him with.

He looms over her. “A _Jedi?_ ” he snarls. “Do you have any idea what you’ve just _done?_ Just announced to everyone?!”

“I won’t be your Empress,” she states plainly, and he physically winces. 

“It would have just been a title,” he says, but they both know he’s lying. “But that’s besides the point. Do you not know what they call me?”

“An ass?” she deadpans, and damnit, he almost smirks.

“Jedi Killer,” he breathes, eyes sweeping about her face, taking in every micro movement, and trying so very hard not to listen to her rushing thoughts battering against his own mind.

She swallows, but her grip on her quarterstaff slackens a bit. “Luke’s other students,” she says sadly. And she pities him, he realizes. “You did that moments after you fell to the Dark Side, fell to Snoke. You weren’t—”

“Please understand. My actions were my own, influenced or not.”

The sadness in her face deepens, as if she’s hurting on his behalf over something he doesn’t understand. It is bizarre. 

“It doesn’t matter anyway,” she says, voice firm. “Jedi or not, you won’t kill me.”

And of course, that’s true.

Kylo goes for a different tactic. “I’ve seen you fight, Rey. I’ve seen how you kill your enemies. The way you fuel your movements. Snoke’s guards, those people on Jakku— _yes I saw that_ —and—”

He hates himself for what he’s about to say. Luke Skywalker’s words bleed out of his mouth. “It is not the Jedi way. Jedi do not relish defeating their enemies quite like you do.”

A wave of frustration that is not his rolls over his body, and at first he thinks she’s frustrated with him. But she’s not. He realizes, after a moment, that she’s frustrated with herself. 

_Only had two lessons from Luke, no idea what I’m doing, just trying to do the right thing—_

They both jerk, and the glare Rey gives him is accusatory.

“I’m sorry.” And he means it. He finally releases the quarterstaff and rests his hand on the wall beside her head. He _leans_ , slanting his body over hers. They are nearly chest to chest, and he watches her gaze slip briefly to his mouth. “I can’t help it.”

She is quiet for a moment and then, “I know. I hear you too.” 

“Snoke was lying,” he states, knowing he should feel ashamed at the relief he feels that their bond through the Force is something that even Snoke couldn’t break. Or create.

“Well, yeah.” She quirks an eyebrow at him, and he tastes a tinge of amusement emanating from her. “Snoke lied about everything.” She says it so simply. He wishes the rest of what’s going on between them could be as simple. “Now, are we done here?”

“No.” He heaves a breath, his chest brushing against hers. For one maddening moment he considers pressing himself against her, to feel her.

“About the stromtroopers—”

“I’m _not_ changing my mind.”

“What you’re _not_ going to do is undermine me again.”

Rey’s back has arched out from the wall, ever so slightly, as if she wants to press herself against him too. But her face is twisted in anger, and she jabs a finger into his chest. “I don’t have to ask you for permission. You promised we would be equals in this—”

“And equals discuss things _together_. Make decisions _together_. Because they’re _equals_.”

She sniffs and ducks under his arm, moving until she’s placed several feet of distance between the two of them. “You would’ve said no, you would’ve fought me. And if those soldiers are going to serve the First Order—”

“They already have for years,” Kylo snaps. “It’s part of the system we have implemented here—”

“It’s a stupid system,” she says stubbornly, and Kylo wonders if they’ll ever get through a conversation without interrupting the other. “They deserve to have names! They deserve to know each other’s faces—” Her voice breaks here, and Kylo sees _Finn_ in her mind, broken in the snow, her crying over his body.

“This isn’t about the soldiers,” he snarls, a bitter taste in his mouth. “This is about FN-2187—”

A wave of the Force knocks him against the wall. It’s not powerful enough to hurt, but it knocks the wind out of him.

“His name is Finn!” Rey shouts. “He’s my friend, and he deserves to have a name! He deserves to have friendship and dreams and a family, and so do every man and woman who you so readily expect to die for your cause!”

She flings the door open and storms out of the room, leaving him still attempting to catch his breath.

He moves into the hallway, watching as she marches down the hall, and he briefly worries over whether she’ll know where she’s going without those damn guards. Of course she’d dismissed them. Honestly, he’s not really sure what he expected. 

He sighs, watching her retreating form disappear around a corner, and a voice that sounds alarmingly like Han Solo mutters in his head, _You gotta get her to smile, kid._

Hux strolls up next to him. “Fucking her in a closet? You couldn’t try to be any more conspicuous—

Hux is in the medbay for two days.

**

Kylo does manage to make her smile about a week or so later. He’d made an excuse to go to her quarters under the guise of having business to discuss. The business is really just that he hasn’t seen her all day, but that is neither here nor there.

The doors open on their own accord as Rey uses the Force to allow him inside. He struts in, arms behind his back and attempting to look domineering, when his lips part in surprise. There’s a bed to sleep in and a door leading to her ‘fresher, but the rest of the floor is organized meticulously into spare parts and droids, and in the middle of the room is a massive work table Rey has managed to set up. She sits on a bench, leaning over something that he can’t see yet.

It’s been a _week_.

“Hello, Ben.”

She refuses to call him by his proper title, and the sound of his abandoned name makes a shiver run up his spine. She uses it so casually and with no irony, as if she really believes she’s addressing Ben Solo, and not Kylo Ren.

It’s disconcerting.

He loves it, but makes no indication of it as he grunts in acknowledgement, walking over to where she’s sitting and peering at what she’s focusing on. The two halves of his grandfather’s lightsaber sit on the table in front of her, and she crouches over it stiffly, eyes tight.

He’d told her it had been the main casualty in the battle in the throne room, and she hadn’t pressed him for anymore details. He’s grateful. It’s hard enough as is to continuously shield his original proposal from her, and her original answer. Day by day he’s increasingly banished this memory into the very depths of his rejected thoughts. It resides right next to the recollection of Han Solo’s face after Kylo had ignited his lightsaber through him.

Rey huffs and leans back, looking up at him with an odd, thoughtful expression. “I was thinking,” she begins, surprisingly nervous, and then plunges forward quickly. “I was wondering actually, well you see I think I know how to transform this into a saberstaff. It served me well before, don’t get me wrong!” She looks like she’s trying not to insult him. “But well, this would suit my fighting better, and I think it’s plausible even with the broken crystal, but I’m not exactly sure how to install—well I was going to ask, since yours is made with a broken crystal, of course I get it if you don’t want to—”

“I’ll help you.” He sits next to her on the work bench, yanking off his gloves and setting them aside. He picks up the two halves of the lightsaber and inspects them. “Having a double saber would actually benefit the split crystal. I used cross guards for mine, to help alleviate the extra chaotic energy—”

“You’ll actually help?” she asks, voice quiet. 

Kylo’s head jerks up and he nods, blinking. Their faces are close. And then she finally does it, she smiles for him. Only a little, but it still counts. His heart speeds up and he takes a deep breath in order to steady himself. He only manages a semi-embarrassed 'yeah' before turning back to the lightsaber.

They talk for hours and hours, deconstructing the broken weapon part by part. Kylo explains how he built his lightsaber, the techniques he used. He’s in the middle of detailing how he’d created the inner chamber when Rey cuts him off.

“Ah, that explains it.”

“Explains what?”

“The energy beam from your lightsaber is chaotic and unstable compared to the one this one had.” She stares at him for a long moment. “It sounds like you just made a mechanical mistake. I thought this whole time you were trying to make a stupid metaphor.”

Kylo Ren gapes at her for a moment. “Are you, are you teasing me?”

And she _giggles_ , thoughts warm and light and sweet, and he lets himself bask in this sunny side of the Force that he hasn’t felt in so long.

He must have a soft look on his face because Rey suddenly bites her lip. “Actually, I’ve been thinking about what you said last week, about my actions not, not being the Jedi way.”

He says nothing, waits for her to continue.

“You’re right, I guess. I mean…I have no idea how to be a Jedi.” She leans forward a bit, and he risks a quick glance at her lips. They look pink and inviting. “I was thinking, perhaps, you could tell me what it actually means to be a Jedi.”

Kylo recoils, immediately standing and taking a few steps back, suddenly needing space. “I burned those teachings out of my body and mind ages ago.”

She shakes her head. “That’s not true.” She gets to her feet as well, leaving the saber on the table, and moves to stand right in front of him. He resists the ridiculous urge to whine. “Luke’s teachings are still there inside you. I can feel it.” She horrifies him by placing an alluringly warm hand on his arm. “I can still feel the conflict too, you know.” Her voice is so gentle, and Kylo can’t help but lean into her touch.

But, despite the fact that he’d like nothing more then to do something that would please this girl, and despite the fact that his mind has been significantly less dark lately with the absence of Snoke, he still can’t. Luke Skywalker and his teachings, and his betrayal, are a pain he’s never fully been able to get over.

“No. I can’t.” He slides a step back, and her hand falls from his arm. He turns and leaves her quarters before the look of sheer disappointment on her face can cut him.

**

The first time they share a meal together, she sees _him_ smile for the first time.

They’re eating a private dinner with Hux, and what was supposed to be a meeting to discuss future endeavors and business tactics becomes mostly Kylo watching Rey eat. Because it’s a spectacle.

She devours dish after dish with ease, shoveling food into her mouth efficiently and with little mess. Hux grows increasingly disgusted with each passing course, but Kylo. Kylo is just impressed. 

Plus, to his sheer delight, Rey vehemently opposes Hux every single time he puts out a suggestion or idea. Finally, Hux excuses himself for a moment, probably needing to seethe in another room instead of risking Kylo’s violent tendencies. Because Hux knows just as well as Kylo that if the general said anything rude to Rey he’d pay for it swiftly.

When the redhead fully exits the room, Rey catches Kylo’s eyes and shakes her head. “He’s such an insufferable little cunt.”

It’s so unexpected, and Kylo barks out a laugh, letting his fork clatter to his plate. He shakes his head in pleasure.

And Rey, she looks flabbergasted.

He tilts his head, confused at her sudden confusion, when her thoughts hit him.

_Never seen him smile before, wow he looks so much younger—_

“It’s been known to happen,” he deadpans, and her eyes widen a little before she frowns at him, taking a massively large bite from her dessert and chewing quickly. There’s a long pause.

_You should smile more often._

She wipes at her mouth with a napkin (not at all dainty), acting completely disinterested, as if she hadn’t just sent a thought straight to him.

He goes back to his own dessert, unbothered.

_Call Hux a cunt more often and I will._

**

It’s Rey’s idea to start training together.

Kylo figures out why about fifteen minutes into their first joint session.

She stands in the middle of the massive room that’s specifically his, and only his, training area. It’s stocked with every weapon imaginable, practice dummies, and a small area for quick rest and refueling. She twirls the practice rod in one hand with a flourish, before going into the same fighting stance he’s seen her use over and over again.  
He uses his own rod to poke at her feet, instructing her to widen her stance a little. She obeys quickly, glancing up at him for approval. He nods. She keeps the stance for a moment before relaxing. “What other forms can you show me?” she asks, trying to appear inconspicuous.

Kylo sighs. She’s attempting to pick his brain for lightsaber forms.

So he decides to go with it, moving through all the different forms of lightsaber combat and physically demonstrating at the same time. He points out which styles might better suit a double handed saber, goes over how to defend herself against certain attacks.

Rey copies all of his movements eagerly, absorbing all the information he feeds her. They work until they’re both covered in sweat, and finally they move to the resting area for water.

“Luke only showed me two different forms,” Rey says, slumping down on a bench and wiping at her forehead with her arm. 

He stiffens, letting the water in his mouth sit for a moment before he swallows. “This isn’t Jedi practice.”

“I know,” she grumbles, flushing and refusing to meet his eye.

And, because maybe if he does it she’ll smile again, he hesitantly decides to indulge her.

“There is no emotion, there is peace,” he begins softly, standing directly in front of her. She peers up inquisitively, and he pulls the rest of the words from the dredges of his thoughts, where he’d meant for them to stay buried. “There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. There is no passion, there is serenity. There is no chaos, there is harmony.” He closes his eyes. “There is no death, there is the Force.”

When he opens them again he’s met with an inscrutable expression. “The Jedi code,” she finally says, fingers curling along the edges of the bench. 

“I don’t agree with it,” he states plainly. “And, tell me honestly, do you? Do you _really?_ ”

“Some of it,” she says, shrugging one shoulder. _But not all._

He’s walking away to put away their practice weapons when she calls out, “Luke believed the Jedi needed to end.”

He pauses, looks at her over his shoulder.

“I’m not saying that your Sith philosophy is _correct_.” She gets to her feet, eyes not leaving his. “But maybe they and the Jedi’s should meet in the middle.”

Kylo huffs and turns away, leaving the practice area without another word.

**

The stormtroopers are starting to love Rey.

Well, no, that’s a lie. _Everyone_ is starting to love her, except for Hux, a surviving Phasma, and other higher ups who had worshipped Snoke. But Kylo picks up on the shifting mood of his army whenever she’s around. The way stormtroopers incline their head to her, the way they serve her with an eagerness in their steps. And not the way they do for him, with genuine fear in their eyes. No, they _respect_ her, respect what she’s done for them since she’s arrived.

Morale is, debatably, at an all-time high.

Which is good, because the First Order hasn’t been able to make any steps forward in terms of actually taking control of the entire galaxy. Getting every single planet to bend to their rule without all out bloodshed is more difficult then it looks. Especially since Rey vehemently opposes each move and tactic that could remotely turn violent.

And her entire attitude toward Hux has changed. In the first couple of months she’d brashly argued his every point, had been a perpetual thorn in the general’s side. Lately though, she hasn’t been saying _anything_ , but instead has been content to study him. Whenever Hux enters the same area she’s in she always gives him a little bit of her attention, as if she’s trying to become in tune with him. It’s weird.

Hux just thinks she’s finally starting to see things his way.

Today no less then _sixteen_ stormtroopers, commanders, and other officials greet Kylo and Rey on their way to the training area. If it had just been Kylo, they would’ve kept their heads down and avoided drawing his attention.

But things are different now that everyone can see each other’s faces. And besides, they’re mostly greeting Rey. They tack on a greeting for him as well because if they didn’t, it would be very, very bad protocol.

As soon as they enter the training area Rey dashes toward the center, freshly completed saberstaff in her hand. She whirls toward him, grinning, and ignites the weapon. The two beautiful, nearly perfect blue beams burst from each end. A bluish glow lights up the feral gleam in her eye. Kylo hopes she never loses it.

Seeing her so happy and pleased makes him happy. She lets out a battle cry as she springs at him, and his own lightsaber is ignited and raised in an instant, effectively blocking her blow. She snarls as she lunges for him again, putting in all her energy even though they’re only sparring.

The aggressive sounds she makes while they fight always leave him half hard.

Today she’s extra vicious, and he finds himself being put constantly on the defensive. Eventually his hair is sticking to his forehead and face with sweat. He accidentally missteps and Rey, properly caught up in the moment, ducks a misaimed blow and backhands him on reflex.

They both stop in mid spar, chests heaving, and Kylo feels blood dribble from his busted lower lip.

Rey sweeps the beam of one of her staff’s blades up to his neck, victory on her face. “Yield,” she growls. He lowers his lightsaber and disengages it, raising his hands in defeat. He’d smile but. Split lip.

Rey lowers her saberstaff and switches it off as well, wincing a little when she catches sight of his face. Sweat covers her bare arms and lower stomach, making the sleeveless cotton shirt she’s wearing stick to her form. He swallows.

“Sorry,” she says, breathless, and in two steps is right in front of him, peering at his lip. _Can I try something?_ Before he can answer, she touches two fingertips to his lip. 

He pushes for her thoughts and finds that she doesn’t have shields up. He can feel how the Force is guiding her, can feel her unwavering trust in what it has to tell her.  
He had thought, maybe, that intense Light would burn him, blind him. But instead it emanates from her like a soft, comforting glow, inviting but not overwhelming. Peaceful. He watches, heart hammering, as she uses it to heal his cut lip. There’s a tugging sensation, and then the cut slowly fades. But instead of pulling her hand away, she guides her fingers to his chin, using her thumb to swipe at the blood gathered there.

“Sorry,” she says again, voice barely above a whisper.

Eyes never leaving hers, Kylo sucks his bottom lip into his mouth, poking his tongue at the spot where the cut had been and feeling nothing but smooth skin. 

Then he cups her face in his hands and kisses her.

She gasps against his mouth, and her feelings and excitement surge against him, mix with his own. She palms his shoulders and pulls him down, closer to her, and slants her mouth greedily over his. He pulls away, smiling a little at the impatient huff she makes. Then he kisses her again, slowly, wanting to savor the taste and feel of her all around him.

That doesn’t last long

Minutes later he has her up against the wall, her legs around her waist and his arms underneath her, supporting her weight. He basks in the way she pants and squirms against him as he sucks at her neck. He leaves love marks on the soft, smooth skin, feeling absurdly aroused at the idea of these marks being seen, of others knowing she belonged to someone.

And that someone is _him._

She whines and claws her fingers through his still damp hair, and he realizes that his thoughts are spinning madly with her own. Her lust is elevating his.

And they’re covered in sweat and in the middle of the training arena.

He sets her down slowly and reluctantly, and she protests furiously. But eventually the lusty haze clears and he sees his reasoning dawn on her own face. Rey releases him and steps away, hand moving briefly to touch at her now red and swollen lips. She still grumbles at him under her breath, however, when she goes to retrieve her abandoned saberstaff.

**

Later that evening Kylo lays in bed, almost asleep, when a jerk in the Force wakes him up. His eyes flutter open and he rolls onto his side and faces his left, the direction that Rey’s quarters are in. A moan escapes his lips against his permission and gentle pleasure blooms in waves all throughout his body.

He sits up straight in bed and very, very hesitantly reaches out through their bond. Rey is lying on top of her bed, and he can hear her labored breathing echoing throughout his head.

_Enjoying yourself?_

Kylo had no idea Rey knew that many swear words.

**

The next day everything changes.

They’re due for a meeting with Hux, Phasma, and several of their admirals in just a few minutes, and Kylo and Rey walk side by side toward the council chamber. Rey is on edge, and has snapped at him several times already this morning.

Kylo is beginning to suspect it doesn’t have anything do with what happened last night. They’ve almost reached the chamber when a tickle in his mind makes him furrow his brow. _Trust in her_ , a voice whispers. The Force, he realizes with shock. But the Force as he hadn’t felt it in years and years, pure and protective, easing around him like a balm. And it’s not coming from Rey, but from _himself_.

They enter the chamber, and he immediately knows something is wrong. Rey moves stiffly to her seat but hesitates before sitting down, Kylo right behind her. The room is saturated with anxiety. It makes his skin crawl.

And then seconds later Rey whirls toward Hux, the two beams of her staff igniting in a rush of blue light. Hux’s red head rolls to the ground a moment later and Rey is already moving toward two other admirals and Phasma. 

And just like that, they’re in battle again. His weapon is in his hand a moment later, and he’s spinning and sweeping it down execution style on the commander to his right.

It’s honestly too easy. He feels the hatred and terror pouring from them, understands as he ducks a blaster shot that he and Rey weren’t meant to leave this meeting alive. Rage churns in his gut as he brings the blade of his lightsaber across a throat, nose wrinkling at the acrid smell of searing flesh. He watches Rey out of the corner of his eye as he fights, prepared to rush to her aid at a moment’s notice. His chest swells with pride when she holds her own just as she did back in the throne room. In fact, he sees some moves he’s taught her come out in the way she twirls her staff, blades marking up the torso of her opponent.

Soon the whole room is littered with bodies. He plunges the end of his weapon into the eye of his final enemy, satisfied when the red beam sticks out the other side of the woman’s head. Then he moves quickly to the other side of the chamber to help Rey finish the spectacular fight she’s having with Phasma.

Furious and heaving with exhaustion, Rey flings a hand up and Phasma’s blue eyes go wide with horror as Rey drags her forward with the Force, a beam of her saberstaff pointed straight at Phasma’s heart. The blade sizzles right through her chrome armor and she dies quickly.

Rey slumps to the ground after, and Kylo moves over to her hurriedly and kneels by her side, concern moving up his throat and making it difficult to breathe. “Are you alright?” he asks, eyes running over her, checking for blood or injuries.

She nods and grabs hold of his shoulder, hand hot. “They were staging a coup. Couldn’t you feel it? I had a feeling when I left my quarters this morning, but wasn’t sure until we entered the room.” She takes a moment to peer around the chamber, at the carnage they’ve caused. “They were going to kill us,” she says, and he wonders if she’s trying to reassure herself.

He wraps a hand around her waist and pulls her against him, pressing his forehead against hers. “You did the right thing. _We_ did.”

She pulls back a little, eyes searching his. A moment later she probes at his head with her thoughts, seeking full immersion because of her wild, adrenaline drunk state. He quickly blocks her out and she pulls her forehead completely away from his, eyes narrowing.

But the truth is, it makes him nervous, knowing that she’s become so sensitive to the thoughts and moods of others, especially himself. And there are things he’d rather her not know. He pulls away and stands slowly, offering her his hand to help her up.

She watches his gloved hand for a long, long moment.

Too long, and he nearly jerks it back, realizing what this gesture could potentially remind her of. He’d nearly forgotten his awful lie. Things have become so _easy_. It’s been alarmingly simple to skirt off his duties, to forget about his true purpose and mission, when Rey is around every day to distract him.

He can’t imagine having her leave, like she’d originally intended. But he can’t imagine her staying either. Not forever. She belongs beside him, but she doesn’t belong _here._

He shoves these thoughts to the side as she slowly takes his hand, and there are tears in her eyes.

Kylo is about to ask if she’s alright when she stands on the tips of her toes and kisses him. She is keeping her thoughts to herself now, but he still feels her warmth and calm, and underneath all that, sadness.

He is not the only one with buried secrets, he understands.

**

Rey follows him into his quarters.

As soon as the doors shut behind him she is on him, pulling him down to kiss him fiercely, fingers threading through his hair and tugging. He moans, and she parts her lips against his. The kiss turns hotter, more aggressive as Rey deserts his hair and pulls at the fabric of his shirt.

Kylo slows his movements, hands fumbling at her waist. 

He’s never done this before, technically.

“Neither have I.” She pulls at the hem of his tunic impatiently and he smiles down at her thankfully before removing it. Her eyes roam over his bare chest greedily, and he swallows, feeling himself growing hard. She pulls off her own robes, quickly slipping off her breast band as well.

He takes in the supple curves of her body, her small breasts and dark pink nipples, waist narrowing before flaring out into hips that fit perfectly beneath his hands. Her body seems to glow underneath his touch and when her bare breasts press against his equally naked chest his eyes nearly roll to the back of his head at the unexpected intimacy of it. She nips at his lower lip and then slips her tongue into his mouth, hand snaking down and pressing against the growing bulge in his pants. His fingers curl into her, and he frets for a moment that he might be bruising her—

Rey moves out of his grasp, slips her pants and underwear off, confident on the outside but a bustle of nerves and desire on the inside. She lets her defenses around her mind down and her glow is nearly intoxicating. He wonders what she sees when she looks at him. Does she see dark energy, a shadow that steals away light—

“Coolness. Protection. A safe place to rest.” She hums, moving forward and running a hand along his chest and shoulders, taking in the hard planes of his body. 

The last of his own nerves fall away at this. There’s no time to dwell on what he’s sure is a gross misinterpretation of his Darkness when she’s naked in front of him. Rey pushes him onto the bed, laying little kisses on his jaw as her left hand plays and teases his cock. He palms one breast with his right hand, marveling at the utter softness, at how his touch makes her gasp and bite her lip. When his pleasure spikes she feels it, and it causes her own to crest until she’s straddling his hips with growing urgency. He supports himself on one elbow, moving his hand from her breast to cup half of her face and neck. Adrenaline and passion and sheer emotion drive him, and he sits up, helping her find a comfortable position before slipping his hand between her legs.

His fingers slide between her with slick ease and he groans at how wet she already is. Rey moves her mouth to the side of his neck and nips at his ear, taking the lobe between her teeth. His cock jumps a little in her hand and he can feel that untamed smile of hers suddenly press into the side of his neck.

After a moment she guides his hand to a small little bud right above her slit, and she gasps, electrified, when he rubs circles around it. He studies her, basking in her pleasure and delight until, trembling, she moves his hand away. 

He frowns, because he’s pretty sure she hasn’t reached her peak, when she shakes her head impatiently and guides the tip of him up against her. She sinks down with agonizing slowness and he bites hard into her shoulder, trying not to come undone right then and there.

Rey strokes his dark hair, eventually settling with the full length of him inside her. He feels her digging into his own current emotions and sensations, taking in the way she feels wrapped around his cock, the shock of it parting her lips. _I feel amazing—_

He pulls from her too, feels how full she is, nearly uncomfortably so. But there’s a completeness there too, a feeling of finally being whole. Of finding her belonging.  
She moves up and then slides back down, and there’s a wet noise that comes from between their bodies. It makes his head grow heady and he thrusts, meeting her own movements in the middle. They find a rhythm. Her hands rest on his shoulders for support, and when he feels like he’s about to burst he stills, asking her quietly with a whisper of thought to do the same.

She slides down and stops when he’s fully inside of her, eyes peering down into his. Her fingertips graze over his mouth and oh, she loves him. He knows she does.  
He memorizes the way she looks poised above him like this, skin slick with sweat and sex, hair in shambles. But beautiful all the same. Right now, he just wants to enjoy what it feels like to simply be inside her in every way.

Then she is moving again, impatient and greedy, and the moment sweeps away, seared into his head and unforgettable. He starts thrusting once again and she’s trembling and whining and his movements become more and more erratic—

“Stay inside,” she commands with a gasp and he nods, moaning as his pleasure finally crests out of his control. He feels himself twitching relentlessly inside of her, the rush of warmth between their bodies as she shudders with him, feeling everything he’s feeling.

They stay there for a few long, sweet moments. Rey presses gentle kisses against his face and Kylo, without warning, moves them to the edge of the bed before standing and scooping her up. He carries her to the ‘fresher, and she lets out a happy sigh when he moves into the massive shower stall. He places her on a seat ingrained into the wall and turns the water on, gathering soap and hair supplies.

She is bone tired and sore in a way that he is not, and he helps her stand, helps her clean between her legs. He washes her hair and she stands under the water, letting the steam billow around her. He feels that tinge of sadness again, but he’s too sated to question her. She hums as he rinses the soap from her hair, hums as the heat from the water and his body own seep into her skin. He hopes the warmth chases away whatever it is making her sad.

Rey falls asleep as soon as they make it back to his bed. She snores a little, and it makes him smile and oh, he realizes he must love her too.

And maybe he has, really, since she reached for his hand across the stars so many weeks ago.

**

Her sadness increases day by day and it becomes an unspoken wall between them. She won’t disclose her thoughts to him anymore, instead keeping a tight reign over her emotions and intuitiveness. She only lets the wall down when they have sex. Which is very, very often.

It only took twenty-nine years, but he _gets it_ now. The companionship that people search across lightyears and planets to find. He has it in her. It’s in the way she sits and plays with his hair when she’s bored, the way she heals his cuts and bruises after they spar, the way she defends him to anyone who has a bad word to say about him (which is basically everyone), the way she touches his face with reference when he thrusts inside her.

And he reciprocates. He’d do anything to keep her.

Which is why he’s growing more anxious and surly day by day. Their time on this ship together is ending. He feels it. He thinks maybe the First Order's time is closing too. He has no idea what he’s doing, trying to lead an entire army. He’s always hated politics anyway, hated them since childhood. He’s always preferred action, and he’s growing restless. Vader’s legacy, once a looming need hovering over him constantly, has faded along with Snoke’s shadow.

But there are some memories he refuses to face, and if that means staying on this ship and continuing to pretend that everything is fine, then so be it.

**

Rey’s sadness crests into agony in the middle of the night, waking him. Kylo sits up in bed and reaches for her, hand coming to rest on her bare shoulder. He can just make out her face in the dark and there are tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Oh _Ben_ ,” she says, voice pained. “I’m so sorry.”

His confusion must give him away because she shrinks from his touch. “You don’t feel it? You still have yourself cut off from her?”

Dread curls in the pit of his stomach. Something in his head clicks, and before he can reach out into the Force, he suspects he knows what he’s about to find.

He looks, searches, and the Force shows him what he had thought he’d already known. Leia Organa is dead. But she hadn’t been blasted away with the rest of the Resistance command bridge that day, but in fact had slipped away to be one with the Force just moments ago.

The pain tears through him unexpectedly. His mother has been alive this whole time and he could have, he should have—

Something inside Kylo Ren snaps and he’s own his feet in an instant, throwing whatever his hands land on against the wall. He kicks over furniture ruthlessly, and doesn’t realize he’s screaming until there are cool hands reaching for arm.

Rey is shouting his name, but he flinches away from her touch. And what’s the point of any of this anyway? Of killing Snoke and finally ridding himself of his former master’s shadow, of finding genuine peace with this girl, if death still steals away those that he loves? What is the _point?_

He head is vulnerable in his agony, and before he fully realizes what’s happening, Rey is barreling her way into his mind, reaching, reaching, and then _yanking—_

He’s a little boy and Leia holds him propped against her hip as he plays with a long lock of her hair. His father, Han Solo, holding him close after a nightmare and trying to chase away things neither of them really understood. Uncle Luke grinning at him when he ignites a lightsaber for the first time—

He…he had forgotten. He had forgotten the good things. Had buried them.

Bad things too.

Killing his fellow padawans. Killing off his Knights one by one as part of Snoke’s training. Murdering his father to sever all ties to his humanity, to fully come into his own Dark power. And it hadn’t even worked, it had—

Split his spirit to the bone. He had failed, and only those he’d once loved had paid the price.

_No_. Rey’s voice is gentle amongst the bedlam. _Your father believed you could still come back, even after. Can’t you feel it, Ben? Can’t you feel our love for you? Even now?_

He pushes against her ruthlessly, his own anguish keeping him from listening to her reason. And then he is seeing the world through her eyes, sees his own sobbing face as she wraps herself protectively around him—

Then he’s soaring back back back into Rey’s own thoughts. How she tasted his lie so long ago in that medbay, where he’d told her that she said she would stay. How she’d decided to ignore it, bury the truth of it deep inside. He sees how she convinces herself that by staying she could do good. Sees her hoping to make a difference from the inside out. Seeking to keep an eye on him, or save him, or be with him. Or maybe all of it. 

He sees the moment she finally remembers everything that happened in the throne room. Him reaching a hand for her after the almost coup had triggered it. The pain of learning about her parents again. The pain of knowing the full extent of his lie.

He also sees that he and this ship are the closest thing to a home she has ever had. And how much, _how much_ she wishes that they could continue like this forever, ignoring the outside world in their bliss.

He sees how she sent a message to the Resistance a week ago, assuring her safety. Giving them the First Order’s location. 

After that he flings himself out of her mind, and he’s on the floor of his quarters, her curled around him. Rey’s tears drip into his hair as she keeps his head tucked under her chin. He gently extracts himself from her, stands, and exits his room.

**

Kylo gives her a shuttle and commands that she leave. He’d rather the Resistance not show up. He doesn’t feel like blasting them into a million little pieces Not yet. Maybe not ever.

“You can’t command me to do anything. I’m your equal, remember?” she had said, and he marvels at the fact that _now_ she wants to stay.

“You’re relieved of your position, Jedi,” he’d answered hollowly.

She had not pressed the issue, and this morning he watches as she moves toward the ramp of the luxury shuttle he’s ensured for her, small amount of possessions gathered in one arm, including the saberstaff.

It had always been meant for her anyway.

The hanger they’re in is empty besides the two of them. He can’t stand the idea of everyone gathering to give her a proper send off. He supposes, even now, he wants her all to himself.

She stops, peering at him. “You could come with me,” she offers. And he would be a liar of he said he wasn’t sorely tempted.

But the Force, the Light that swirls in him, that belongs to him again, tells him no. That there are some demons that should be beaten alone. That there are some journeys that you’re only meant to take on your own. 

She belongs by his side. But not here. Not on this ship and with Kylo Ren, Emperor. The title stings the inside of his mouth and he swallows, taking a step toward her without realizing it.

“No,” is all he says, but she drops her things and moves quickly toward him. A moment later she’s wrapped in his arms, letting the defenses around her mind drop one more time.

_I understand. I’ll see you soon._

He believes her.

**

It has not quite been a year.

All the ships in the First Order’s fleet are sold, army disbanded. Kylo had had to kill a few upstarts foaming at the mouth to take advantage of the situation, but that is neither here nor there. Perhaps bloodshed will never really bother him as much as it should.

The soft noise of humming machinery goes quiet around him and he jerks his head up from where he’s standing. Rey is here, in his room, hazel eyes wide. He almost smiles. Just like old times.

She takes in the bare quarters, the lack of furniture. The bag he’s packing.

And she grins.

**Author's Note:**

> Prompts were as follows:
> 
> 1) A prompt that I saw on Discord: Rey wakes up after the confrontation with Kylo in the throne room in TLJ but she has amnesia. And Kylo might just use that for his advantage...
> 
> 2) I love two opposite characters confined in a small space (like in a lift that's stuck, in a car during a roadtrip, in a shop that's been accidentially locked, having to share a hotel room etc) and watching them react to each other and maybe change in the process.
> 
> I kinda grabbed the first prompt and ran screaming into the night with it. This was a lot of fun to write. FeelTheWord, thanks for the awesome prompts and I hope you enjoyed!
> 
> The "not an Empress but a Jedi" and Rey telling all the stormtroopers to chose new names are things I pulled directly from the Dragon Queen herself, Deanerys Targaryen from Game of Thrones. I don't know, I just wanted Rey to have a Khaleesi moment.
> 
> Thank you for reading!


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